Promises Promises
by Chiseplushie
Summary: Prompt - Remus Lupin smokes from a pipe, from @Ash-Castle. WolfStar drabble, where we see snap shots of their relationship.


**A/N: Received the below prompt from the lovely Ash...months ago. I posted it on tumblr and forgot to post it here too!**

 **Prompt -** Remus Lupin smokes from a pipe, from Ash-Castle

Tumblr: chiseplushie

* * *

Promises, Promises

* * *

Sirius is sitting on the porch swing on the backside of Potter Manor. He's snuggled between two pillows with a lit cigarette between his lips. He inhales deeply, and exhales a stream of white clouds floats brightly around his dark hair. The mixture of smoke and damp winter air disperses and fades quietly into the night. He's wearing a light t-shirt and his sleeping pants are riding low on his hips. The drawstrings are undone. It's been years since he last made an effort to tie them.

He's considering whether he wants to apply a second warming charm or brave the wintery night while he finishes off his third cigarette when the door creaks open. Remus' shadow greets him first, before the werewolf nudges him with his slippered foot.

Sirius scooches over, still sandwiched between the pillows. Remus sits down next to him and makes protesting noise at the pillow tucked between him and the grey-eyed wizard. Remus removes the offending pillow, storing it on the other end of the swing. He settles himself against Sirius, and Sirius can feel Remus pressed into his side. Remus's scent burns his lungs like smoke never could. Body heat scorches his skin and Sirius thinks he doesn't need the second warming charm after all.

"I thought you promised Mum you were going to quit," Remus says quietly. He's one to talk, Sirius thinks as the werewolf checks his own handmade pipe before he leans over. Sirius lights it.

"I'm trying," Sirius replies. "What about you?"

"I don't make promises I can't keep."

~ o ~ o ~

Remus rolls his shoulders. He's agitated and concedes that he can no longer focus on marking the stack of fourth-year essays.

He pats his pockets and fishes an old tobacco pipe out from one of the folds. He's trying not to glance at the folded Marauder's Map off to the side but he can't help himself. Green eyes flick over to the parchment. Harry's last words are still fresh in his mind, and he's trying but Remus cannot forget them.

He checks the pipe, refills and lights it. The heat he inhales feels familiar but not quite the same. Remus is part way through his fifth puff before he breaks down and says, "I solemnly swear that I am up to no good."

He chokes on the next puff, the smoke claws at the insides of his lungs. He drops the pipe, gathers up his wand and absentmindedly grabs his cloak as he dashes out to the Whomping Willow. He forgets to clear the Map, and his office remains unlocked. He forgets the full moon is tonight.

~ o ~ o ~

Number Twelve Grimmauld Place is a bit dreary. The lights are on in every room, in every hallway, and Remus is resolutely trying to ignore the dampness of Dark Magic that still oozes from the walls.

Remus is working on the crossword from the Prophet's Sunday edition, the throw blanket strewn on his lap fails to keep out the chill. He forgot to reapply the warming charm when it wore off ten minutes ago, but can't bring himself to make the effort now. The werewolf doesn't notice when he rubs the mouthpiece of his favorite pipe across his bottom lip. Sirius settles next to him on the couch and Remus instinctively leans into the grey-eyed wizard. Sirius is incredibly warm against him and he's reminded of nights long gone.

Sirius watches the pipe slide back and forth, while Remus reads the next hint of the crossword to himself.

"Remus," Sirius is a little breathless. He can't help it. "What have I told you about … about doing that?"

Remus blinks owlishly at Sirius, his green eyes clearing as his mind focuses on Sirius. Remus breathes deeply - Sirius is fresh from the shower and Sirius' scent burns his lungs.

His voice rumbles deep as he replies, "Don't make promises you can't keep."

Remus can barely breathe but Sirius' heat fills him to the brim. Remus is on fire, his nerves are burning and Sirius looms overhead, shining brighter than any light. The pipe rolls to the floor, forgotten underneath the coffee table.


End file.
